


Before It Buries Me

by liv_andlet_die



Category: Nightwing (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Birdflash - Freeform, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Hurt Wally West, M/M, Protective Dick Grayson, dickwally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liv_andlet_die/pseuds/liv_andlet_die
Summary: Wally rushes in. But when is that a surprise?





	Before It Buries Me

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt from an anon on tumblr! If you come here to read it as well, please leave a comment so I can thank you properly! :D 
> 
> Just a short drabble, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> ~~~~
> 
> Title taken from 'Cold Is The Night" by The Oh Hellos:

Wally closes his eyes. It’s his fault. It’s always his damn fault. Gotta stop being so _fucking_ impulsive.

There’s definitely something wrong with his leg. Just trying to roll onto his stomach sends agony shooting up from his ankle to his thigh, but he still manages to do it. His vision’s blurred from the pain, but he can just make out the figures getting to their feet in the dust around them.

Right. Bad guys. Mission. Got a job to do.

But _holy shit_ , something is really wrong with his leg. He can feel his tendons trying to knit themselves back together, his joints aching in their attempt to realign themselves, but even with his accelerated healing, whatever this is isn’t going away any time soon.

What _happened_?

Oh, that’s not good. Concussion? Maybe. His thoughts are still mostly clear, though, so maybe not. Hopefully not.

The dust is starting to clear, and Wally knows he’s only got about 75 seconds until it’s gone, and those bad guys are gonna see him sprawled on the floor in a helpless heap. Gotta have a plan. Gotta come up with something but _fuckshitwhatiswrongwithhisleg?_

He’s forgetting something. He knows he’s forgetting something, but the pain is clouding his thoughts and he just can’t _fucking remember_ what the hell happened.

He barely has time to register the figure dropping in through the dust, landing silently beside him, before there’s one hand over his mouth and another on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, it’s me.”

Relief floods his body, and Wally thinks that if he wasn’t already a mess on the ground, he would’ve dropped to his knees at the sound of that voice.

Nightwing. Dick Grayson.

He’s here.

And then he’s gone.

There’s a shift in the air as Nightwing drops from whatever vantage point he managed to find in this blown up warehouse (that’s right, the warehouse!), landing full force on the shoulders of bad guy #4. A smoke pellet drops, and there’s a predator on the prowl. One down, five to go.

Wally can hear the blows landing solidly through the din of yelps and cries, and he doesn’t have to guess who’s winning.

He shifts his weight onto one arm, using his free hand to wiggle his goggles over his eyes and set them to heat vision. Now there’s three figures in the cloud; two bodies sprawled on the floor, unconscious. One of the three still standing is clearly the winning participant here, and Wally would know that silhouette anywhere. A small smile spreads across his lips.

Dick Grayson. Always got his back.

But he’s still forgetting something.

Wait.

Warehouse.

‘Blown up warehouse.’

_The bomb._

Wally heart leaps into his throat and he scrambles to get to his feet but _shitfuckshit_ his leg is still totally screwed up.

But there was a _bomb._

The bust went sideways the second he ran into the building. It was a simple extraction mission. Get in, get evidence, get out. But Wally ran in way too early and set off the security systems. Which involved a self-destruct mechanism in the main control room. Which led to himself and several henchmen getting blown up seven ways to Sunday.

Shit.

The building was already crumbling. It’s an old warehouse on the harbour, a big bucket of rust and asbestos just waiting for a loose nail to take the whole place down. And Wally had just set off a bomb in here.

And they’re still in here. _Dick_ is still in here.

Shitshitshit.

Wally looks up. The ceiling is cracked through, bits and pieces crumbling down. There’s a huge chunk that Wally can just tell isn’t having its weight supported by the freaking support beams anymore. It’s shifting and crumbling and it’s _right above_ where Dick is fighting the last baddie. He’s still winning, obviously, but it’s not going to be fast enough.

_Fuck._

Wally could get them out of there. Wally could grab Dick and run out of there and watch the building come down from a hundred feet away.

But his leg is so fucked up.

He can’t run. He can barely even move it without agony firing up to his hip now and whatthefuckiswrongwith-

And then it’s too late.

The ceiling crumbles with a deafening crack and that last baddie looks up to see where the sound came from, which is was his last mistake. Nightwing takes him out with a roundhouse kick, thoroughly dislocating his jaw in the process. But now Dick is looking up and watching as the building starts to come down on top of him.

Wally engages the Speedforce on instinct. Time slows around him, and he watches as the ceiling starts to come down on top of his boyfriend.

He’s too late. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, he’s in so much pain it’s hard to even think – but then Dick is turning in slow motion and the fear on his face sends Wally’s heart into overdrive.

It’s not too late. Never too late. Don’t think, just go. Run.

_Run._

It must be the adrenaline. The chemical masking the agony in his leg that lets him kick off the ground at top speed, a straight shot for the love of his life as he races against time. He catches Dick around the middle and tucks his head against his shoulder as he bolts out the building, not wasting time in turning back to watch the structure crumble.

He makes it about fifty feet before the pain is back and now it’s shooting up his spine with every step he takes. It doesn’t take long for his legs to give out from under him. He’s tripping, and then he’s falling, and then he’s turning in midair to take the brunt of the impact.

It’s a good thing Uncle Barry had the bright idea to put Kevlar in the back of his suit too, or he might not have any skin left back there. They skid to a halt about a hundred feet from the building now, Dick curled up in Wally’s protective arms, who’s gasping for air at this point because _wow_ that took way too much effort.

It takes a minute before Dick seems to even register what’s happened.

“Wally…”

Wally just groans in response, his head falling back against the gravel with a dull thud.

“Wally?!”

“…I’m good… just… ow…”

Nightwing scrambles to remove himself from his position on top of Wally, moving instead to kneel beside him.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“Building… bomb… fucked up my leg…”

“Your leg?”

Dick moves to inspect the injured limb, but even his fingers barely brushing his knee has Wally writhing in pain.

“Okay. Shit, okay, calling for backup.”

Wally just covers his face in his hands, groaning in discomfort. It only really hurts when he tries to move it.

“They’re on their way, Walls. Can you tell me anything else about the-“

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Dick frowns, his expression warping from worry into deep concern. “…what for?”

**“I’m… I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess.”**

He doesn’t move for a moment, then lets out a massive sigh and smiles down at Wally so gently he doesn’t think he deserves it.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I… ran ahead… again.”

He just knows that Dick’s rolling his eyes behind the mask. “Yeah. So?”

Wally doesn’t respond.

Dick reaches out and runs a hand through Wally’s windswept hair, and the comfort is such a contrast to the pain that Wally lets a soft moan.

“You always run ahead, idiot. It’s what you do.”

Wally closes his eyes in shame.

“But I know that. How do you think I got there in time?”

“You shouldn’t have to… I’m sor-“

“Wally. Don’t.”

Dick cups his cheek in one hand, and Wally’s opening his eyes to stare up into his favourite pair of baby blues in the whole world. Dick took his mask off. “I’m always going to be there in time. I’m always following you, no matter how far behind I might be, I’m always going to be there.

He leans forward to press his lips to Wally’s forehead, and Wally can feel tears leaking out from the corners of his eyes.

“‘Cause, if you’re going, I’m going.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna yell at me about birdflash/batfam/dc in general, or send me some more prompts, come find me at notstars-doors.tumblr.com :D


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